Castle Craneycrow eBook

In her mind’s eye she saw the great church thronged
with the most brilliant, illustrious assemblage it
had ever held (she was quite sure no previous gathering
could have been more august), and a smile of pride
came to her lips. The great chorus, the procession,
the lights, the incomprehensible combination of colors,
the chancel, the flowers, her wedding gown, and Ugo’s
dark, glowing face rushed in and out of her vision
as she leaned back in her chair and—­almost
forgot to breathe. The thought of Ugo grew and
grew; she closed her eyes and saw him at her side
as they walked proudly from the altar with the good
bishop’s blessing and the song of the choir in
their ears, the swelling of love in their souls.
So vivid became the dream of his presence that she
could almost feel his hand touching hers: she
felt her eyes turn toward him, with all that great
crowd watching, and her heart quivered with passion
as his dark, happy eyes burnt through to her very
soul. Somehow she heard distinctly the whisper,
“My wife!”

Suddenly a strange chill came over this idle, happy
dream, and she opened her eyes with a start, Ugo’s
face fading away like a flash. The thought had
rushed in like a stab from a dagger. Would Philip
Quentin be there, and would he care? Would he
care?

X

TWO IN A TRAP

“Th’ juke sent his card up, sir,”
said Turk, his master was once more in his rooms at
the Bellevue. Turk was looking eminently respectable
in a new suit of blue serge.

“When?” asked Phil, glancing at Laselli’s
card. He had forgotten the Italian, and the sight
of his name recalled the plot unpleasantly.

“‘Bout eleven o’clock. I watched
him leave th’ hotel an’ go down that street
over there—­th’ same one you took a
little earlier.”

“Watching me, I suspect. Haven’t
seen that detective fellow, have you, Turk? You
ought to be able to scent a detective three miles
away.”

“I can’t scent in this language, sir.”

Early in the evening, as Quentin was leaving the hotel
for a short stroll, he met the duke. The Italian
accosted him familiarly and asked if he were trying
to find a cool spot.

“I thought a ride on the tramcars might cool
me off a bit,’” said Phil.

“I know the city quite well, and I, too, am
searching for relief from the heat. Do you object
to company in your ride or stroll?”

“Happy to have you, I assure you. If you’ll
be good enough to wait here for a moment, till I find
my stick, I’ll be with you.” The duke
bowed politely, and Phil hastened back to his rooms.
He secured his stick, and did more. Like a wise
young man, he bethought himself of a possible trap,
and the quest of the stick gave him the opportunity
to instruct Turk to follow him and the duke and to
be where he was needed in case of an emergency.

The tall, fresh-faced American in his flannels, and
the short, bearded Italian in his trim frock coat
and silk hat strolled leisurely forth into the crowded
Place du Palais.